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“Nothing, thanks. I just came to see if I was dreaming about garlic and basil or if this was for real. I’ll leave the two of you to yourselves now.” He stood awkwardly, as though he wasn’t quite steady on his feet. Steffie’s instincts were to help him, but she knew it was important that he do as much as possible on his own. She stepped back, ready to assist him if necessary.

Charles must have been thinking the same thing because he stood beside her, a concerned look on his face.

“I’ll see you to your room,” she said. The effort of rising from his chair and walking a few paces seemed to deplete her father’s strength.

“Nonsense,” he objected. “You’ve got company. Charles isn’t here to visit me. I heard him say so himself. That was just an excuse so he could bring you that pretty flower.”

“Don’t argue with me, Daddy.”

Her father grumbled, but allowed her to wrap her arm around his waist to support him. She looked over her shoulder at Charles. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Take your time.”

No sooner were they out of the kitchen than David came to a halt, wearing the most delighted grin Steffie had ever seen. “What’s so amusing?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said. Then he started chuckling softly. “It’s just that your mother was right about this, too. Surprises me, but it shouldn’t.”

“What? Right about what?”

“You and Charles.”

“Daddy, there’s nothing between us! We’re hardly even friends.”

“Perhaps, but all that’s about to change. Soon, too. Very soon.”

Her father continued to mutter under his breath, as pleased as ever. Steffie closed her ears to his remarks, knowing that he had to be referring to his dream—the time he’d supposedly spent tiptoeing around the afterlife, gathering information. It hadn’t bothered her nearly as much when he was going on about Valerie and Colby, but now that it was her turn, she felt decidedly uneasy.

“Charles isn’t here to see me,” she insisted. “Bringing me the azalea didn’t mean anything. He got a new advertising account, that’s all. I’m sure he intended to give it to you, but you were sleeping.”

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

Arguing wouldn’t get her anywhere, and besides, she didn’t want to keep Charles waiting. She suspected he’d be leaving soon, anyway. Her father sat on the edge of his bed, his eyes curious as he smiled up at her. “I might have guessed. I wasn’t sure what to think when your mother mentioned you and Charles. She told me you’ve been in love with him for quite some time. She’s right, isn’t she?”

Steffie kissed his brow and ignored his question. “Do you want me to tuck you in?”

“Good heavens, no! You hurry back to your young man. He’s waiting for you. Has been for years.”

“Good night, Dad,” she said pointedly.

Her father’s grin broadened. “By golly, your mother was right,” she heard him mutter again. “I should’ve known. Forgive me, Grace, for doubting.”

Outside the bedroom door, Steffie started to tremble. Without directly saying so, her father was telling her what she’d most dreaded hearing, and at the same time what she desired above all.

Whether it was the result of fantasy, intuition or, as he believed, spiritual intervention, he’d become convinced that she’d be marrying Charles. The same way he was so certain about what would happen between Valerie and Colby Winston. And Steffie wasn’t any more confident about her older sister’s relationship than she was about her own with Charles.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Charles told her when she rejoined him in the kitchen.

She raised her eyes to his, dismayed that he’d noticed. She needed to sit down. He was right, it had been a scare, listening to her father talk like that about the two of them, making marriage sound imminent.

“What is it? Is your father okay?”

She nodded. “Oh, he’s fine, growing stronger every day…”

“It’s good to see him smile again.”

Steffie nodded and glanced at the simmering pot of sauce. Anything to keep her eyes away from Charles.

“What’s really wrong?” he asked her. His concern was gentle and undemanding, and it touched her heart. This was the man she’d always known him to be. The man she’d fallen in love with—the man she’d never been able to forget.